


we're something, don't you think so?

by spideysmjs



Series: Spideychelle Bingo [1]
Category: Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Powers, Angst Lite, F/M, Fake Dating, Meet the Family, Weddings, and they were roommates!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-25
Updated: 2020-07-25
Packaged: 2021-03-06 03:08:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,507
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25516294
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spideysmjs/pseuds/spideysmjs
Summary: Her aunt interrupts Peter saying, “None of us ever got the news or anything.”"Didn’t want the whole family to turn their heads at something not as grand as the wedding, you know?”So this is happening.Peter is MJ’s secret boyfriend for the night.
Relationships: Michelle Jones/Peter Parker
Series: Spideychelle Bingo [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1848583
Comments: 47
Kudos: 141





	we're something, don't you think so?

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Machiavelien](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Machiavelien/gifts).



> Happy birthday, [Machiavelien](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Machiavelien)! ♥
> 
> You deserve all kinds of happiness. :)
> 
> This is a part of [Spideychelle Bingo.](https://spideychellebingo.tumblr.com/)

_The JONES and WILLIAMS families  
_ _Invite you to join them in celebrating_

_The Wedding of_

SAMANTHA AND CHARLIE

 _ON SATURDAY, THE EIGHT OF AUGUST  
_ _TWO THOUSAND TWENTY-EIGHT.  
_ _AT FOUR O’CLOCK IN THE AFTERNOON._

[X] YES ~~[ ] YES + 1 [ ] NO~~

Peter leans closer to the kitchen table, eyeing the 4x6 cardstock decorated with water colored vines and lilies framing the text. He frowns, sucking in his lips in long debate before finding the courage to walk over to his roommate’s door, knocking lightly just in case MJ’s taking her after-work power nap. It is 6pm after all.

“Ughhhhhh.” Peter hears her groan, a small rip in the corner of his heart grows. He wants to comfort her, to console her knowing that she hadn’t stopped talking about this wedding in months, and now––with the invitation printed and sent directly to their apartment––it feels more real than ever before. 

“Ughhhh, as in come in? Or ughhhh, as in leave me alone I don’t feel like talking to you right now, Parker?“ he provides her with options, cracking the door open enough for MJ to hear him, but still not invading her personal space. 

“Come in,” she sighs, her voice muffled by what Peter can assume is from lying face flat onto her pillow. He sneaks inside her room, elated that he had guessed correctly her position on her queen-sized bed, yet frustrated by what led her to get to this point. He hates seeing MJ sad.

He moves slowly to the edge of her bed, sitting at the corner he always sits at when she’s curled up and moping, waiting for her to invite him to move closer and inevitably become her pillowcase after he ends up occupying the empty side of the mattress. 

Peter hears MJ sniffle even if she tries to hide it.

“It’s really in three months, huh?” he asks. 

“Yeah,” she answers softly. “I’m sorry. I-I know I haven’t shut up about it, but–”

“You don’t have to apologize, Em. This means so much to you,” he scoots closer, testing the waters of their proximity, “it’s your baby sister.”

She finally turns over, lying flat on her back as she looks at him. Her eyes are puffy, and rightfully so. “Then why am I dreading going?”

“Because,” Peter tilts his head, tugging a smile at the corner of his lips––understanding and accepting––as he says, “it’s your _baby_ sister.”

“I know,” MJ says. “I just… I thought maybe since they’d gotten engaged last year, that… I don’t know, maybe I’d be in some kind of relationship by now. And now I have to go at this alone. And I’m an awful human for feeling this way about my own sister’s wedding.”

She scoots over, leaving Peter enough space to scoot up and tuck himself next to her. He does so, eventually finding himself sitting up straight, back against the headboard with MJ’s head resting on his lap and his fingers combing softly through her hair. 

“MJ, we’ve known each other for–what–three years now?” he estimates. She smiles quietly at his acknowledgment, looking up at him as he continues. “You’re not an awful person. You’re wonderful.”

Peter isn’t lying when he states this, almost as if it’s automatic for him, almost as if it’s the undeniable truth instead of a measly sentence that lacks the impact of what Peter really thinks about MJ, ever since they’d met in their last year of grad school. They were both working towards masters in such different fields–biochemistry and social work–yet fought for the same table on the seventh floor of ESU’s library, eventually both giving up and _sharing_. 

They became good friends after that. 

They even moved in together after graduating, both knowing that a nice apartment in New York City is hard to come by, especially while accruing incredible debt from their degrees. 

Three years later, and Peter longs for more despite knowing MJ’s nowhere near feeling the same way. He’d contemplated telling her after a few months of sharing the same space, but there was something in him that held him back – a voice warning him at the back of his head claiming that if they were meant to be, they would have already been.

“Thanks,” she murmurs, letting her eyes close as she holds back a few tears. “You know I don’t care about being in a relationship. It’s just… my sister’s younger than me, and she’s getting married, and she’s probably going to have kids soon, and I feel like a worn-out sock without its pair. I’m just collecting dust.”

“You’re not a sock, Em.”

“That’s not the point of the metaphor, Pete.”

“I know,” he says, playfully rolling his eyes. “But you’re not collecting dust. _And,_ you don’t need to constantly say you don’t care about relationships for your sadness to feel… real. It’s real,” he brushes the back of his hand against her cheek, still damp from tears. “That’s okay.”

“I’m going to end up alone.”

“No, you’re not.”

“I don’t mind ending up alone.”

“But you’re not going to.”

“I don’t even have a date to the wedding,” she sighs.

“I’ll be your date.” The words escape Peter’s mouth before his brain can process it. He tenses, his fingers no longer curling into her hair. 

MJ blinks. “I don’t want to drag you into a family affair.”

In the years he’d known her, Peter had only learned about her family in unrevealing anecdotes and comments about her mother’s recipe of the week messages in their group chat. The fear in bringing him into her world on a more personal level checks out, and the regret is already building up in his stomach the moment she utters her response. The tips of his ears are red, and he forces himself not to shut his eyes or rub his neck – a nervous tell that MJ knows like the back of her hand.

Yet he ends up looking wide-eyed and probably worse because she crinkles her nose and says, “Why do you look like that?”

“Like what?” he chuckles it off. 

She narrows her eyes and states, “Like you’re about to throw up. Is that your visceral reaction looking at me?”

Peter knows MJ is teasing, yet all he wants to do is say, _no, that’s the opposite of what I feel when I’m around you._ “Do you really think I’d be that awful of a date that you don’t want to take me to your sister’s wedding?”

She sighs, rolling her eyes. “Pete, you know it’s not that.”

“Then what is it?” he tries, bouncing his thigh so that her head shakes until she lifts herself up. He continues to convince her saying, “I’ll make the night tolerable. I know you hate weddings. And the whole time I can make you laugh. I know you’d like that.”

The regret turns into confidence, Peter hoping it’s not premature.

His hope inflates when she pulls her lips with a tucked in grin saying, “Okay, be my date.”

“You won’t regret it!” he applauds. “I love weddings. I can do all the small talk with random strangers for you because I know you hate it. And I can catch the bouquet so no one in your family is next to get married, and you won’t have to secretly suffer through another set of vows.”

“I’m starting to think you did this so you could attend a wedding, Parker,” she raises her eyebrow. He shrugs, fronting his best effort to look _cool_ and _casual_ until she repositions herself and pulls him into a hug, warm and cozy and _right_. “Thank you.” 

“Of course,” he mumbles into her hair, a hint of her “work” perfume still lingering on her skin. 

_Anything for you_.

* * *

_The JONES and WILLIAMS families  
_ _Invite you to join them in celebrating_

_The Wedding of_

SAMANTHA AND CHARLIE

 _ON SATURDAY, THE EIGHT OF AUGUST  
_ _TWO THOUSAND TWENTY-EIGHT.  
_ _AT FOUR O’CLOCK IN THE AFTERNOON._

X

~~[X] YES [ ] YES + 1 [ ] NO~~

* * *

“Meeshy, so do you have a plus one or not?” Sam asks through the phone, a hint of frustration in her voice, 2-3 business days after MJ sent out the response to the wedding invitation.

“I do. I put the X on the top,” she says, almost knocking her head against the table.

“This isn’t some dumb scene out of a rom-com where you mark that you have a date, and then you go searching for one last minute right? This is my wedding, Meesh.”

“I have a date,” MJ grits her teeth, sighing as she eyes Peter across the table. He frowns at her, feeling as if he’s listening in on a conversation that should be left between two sisters despite her phone being on speaker, MJ having convinced Peter to sit and listen to how allegedly ridiculous her sister is.

“Who?” Sam gasps. “You’re dating someone? You didn’t tell me or Mom and Dad.”

“I don’t _need_ to tell you anything.”

It’s true: MJ’s exchanges of personal experience with her family are few and far between. She had lived her life away from them after college, only popping in and out from time to time, spending only the holiday season with them. MJ has explained many times to Peter that she loves her family, but if she had never put herself first, maybe she wouldn’t love them as much.

She didn’t want to be one of Sam’s bridesmaids––even though Sam begged her to write a speech, and MJ relented, explaining to Peter this act would bring her sister eternal happiness. 

He watches MJ tilt her head back, shutting her eyes in frustration, her physical reactions translating into hurt. He gently takes her left hand that’s sprawled lazily on the table and begins to squeeze it. She squeezes back, bringing her head back down and smiling, mouthing, _“thank you.”_

He whispers back, “of course... _Meeshy_.”

MJ drops his hand plop down on the wood.

* * *

When she steps out of the dressing room, and Peter’s tucked on the bench in the corner of the hallway, he’s speechless. Her cascading lavender dress makes her cheeks glow almost as bright as Peter’s eyes when he first catches hers.

“This is, like, the fourth one,” she sighs, “and I’m starting to think dressing room montages are a lot more work than they show in movies.”

He laughs, chest tightening at the sight of her, knowing this feeling will only double, triple time on the day of the actual wedding. “It’s perfect.”

* * *

Every time MJ rests her head on Peter’s shoulder, the little string of hope pulling at the bottom of his heart becomes stronger, convincing him that maybe he should say something. Maybe on the other end of the string is her heart, and if Peter takes the chance and tells her, this could be something. But he has this fear – a heavy pair of scissors waiting at the center of the ropes, waiting for the words to start cutting into the friendship they’ve become so comfortable with.

He’d rather have MJ in his life forever than take a risk that he hasn’t assessed the consequences of, only keeping that scenario in his daydreams, locked away in a place that only Peter has access to. 

Yet somewhere deep in the crevices of his mind, Peter knows he wouldn’t mind handing MJ the key. 

“Almost there,” she says, skimming through the screen of her phone displaying the GPS. In a more hushed tone, nervous and honest, she whispers, “I’m sad.”

“How can you be sad when there’s going to be _cake_?” he says, knowing MJ said herself that she had exhausted all of her insecurities about The Wedding, and didn’t want to talk about it anymore.

“We could have just baked a cake at home.”

“You mean watch me bake a cake?”

“Exactly, Parker.”

“Room with MJ, they said,” he jokes. “It’ll be fun, they said.”

“Please, you love me,” she snorts just as the driver pulls over to drop them off.

He does.

* * *

Peter watches the way MJ’s eyes fill with silent tears, her body at a slight tense, as her little sister walks down the aisle. He knows MJ’s happy for Sam, she’s explained how she feels about this so many times, but that doesn’t stop Peter from interlocking his fingers with hers, squeezing her hand as she squeezes back. 

* * *

Peter stays seated at their table, watching her bag as she gets up and greets distant relatives. He watches MJ laugh, arms folded. Something about her just makes him beam inside.

“So you’re the mystery date?” a voice comes from behind him, Peter turning his head to meet eyes with a stranger. She looks older, eyebrows raised, inquisitive. 

“I–uh–yeah, I’m Peter,” he extends his hand and she takes it. “Nice to meet you, ma’am.”

“Ma’am? Oh, honey. Just call me Melissa,” she smiles, “So when did you and my niece Meeshy meet?”

Peter chuckles at the nickname. “Grad school. We fought over a library table space, and then kind of became inseparable working on our theses. Misery loves company, all that.”

“That’s lovely,” she takes MJ’s spot at the table, a cautionary feeling in the pit of his gut. “I always thought Meeshy was living all on her own. She’s always been very independent.”

“She is,” Peter says. “But rent is ridiculous, so living together was a better option after graduating.”

“Right after graduating?” her eyes widen in bemusement. Somehow Peter feels that he’s said too much, despite having rarely said anything. He nods nervously, there’s no going back now, disappointed in himself because he was supposed to make this night easy for MJ. He just wanted to make her laugh and show her a good time and wanted to stop her insecurities of feeling lonely despite wanting to be alone from overflowing.

But now he’s cracked open a damn, a mess ready to drown both of them in questions and pointed eyes.

Oh, man. MJ’s going to kill him for sure.

“Ye–yeah,” Peter says, avoiding eye contact and searching for MJ in the crowded room. 

Before their conversation has the chance to continue, he finds her at the bar, already looking at him with concern. As the bartender provides her with a mixed drink, MJ leaves a tip on the table and makes her way to Peter. 

When she arrives, she gives Melissa a kiss on the cheek. She walks over and hovers behind Peter, her hands resting on the back of the chair as she deadpans, “Is Aunt Mel bombarding you with questions about me?”

From her aunt’s immediate chuckle, Peter can tell there’s no harm in MJ’s tone of voice. “Now, now. I’m just trying to learn more about your boyfriend.”

Fuck. Fuckfuckfuck.

He feels her grip on the chair tighten. “Oh.”

“Well actually, uh–”

Melissa interrupts him saying, “None of us ever got the news or anything.”

“I didn’t think it was appropriate because tonight’s about Sam and Charlie,” MJ returns, not correcting her aunt on the b-word she had just dropped. Her hand travels from the seat to his shoulders, slowly wrapping her arms around him. The movement is almost natural like their bodies are supposed to fit perfectly against one another’s. “Didn’t want the whole family to turn their heads at something not as grand as the wedding, you know?”

So this is happening.

Peter is MJ’s secret boyfriend for the night.

He laughs and softens into her touch, bringing one hand to place on her arm as he breathes out the only thought that comes to his brain, “Yeah.”

He’s such an idiot.

“Well, leave it to Meeshy to keep secrets,” Melissa says almost too casually for Peter’s taste. 

“It’s more out of respect, really,” he says. He hears a small snort come from MJ’s mouth, and somehow that makes him feel like he’s succeeded in something. MJ’s love life–-really _anyone’s_ love life–-doesn’t need to be showcased. MJ soothes his bubbling anger with a gentle touch. “We like to be private.”

“I understand,” she says, her voice wavering from Peter’s response. “I’ll leave you two lovebirds to it.”

When she walks away, MJ occupies her seat again. “What the hell, Parker?”

“All I did was say we live together!” he explains, panicking frantically at MJ’s glare. 

“You _what_?” 

“Was I not supposed to? You didn’t tell me. There isn’t a rule book about going to your roommate’s little sister’s wedding!”

“Like you’d even read it.”

“...You’re right.” he looks down at his half-eaten salmon, pondering for a beat before asking, “Why didn’t you say anything to correct her?”

“What?”

“You didn’t say we weren’t dating.”

“Oh,” she looks down, too, the sudden move tugging the string all over again. Then she snorts, “Well, I thought it’d make the wedding more entertaining, and that’s what you promised me, Parker.”

“Oh, yeah,” he sucks his lips in. “Yeah, okay.”

“Unless–uh–unless you don’t… feel comfortable,” she stutters.

“No! No, it’s fine, Em. Really. It’ll be funny,” he says. Yeah, it’s not going to break his heart at all pretending to date the person he’s in love with. This is fine. “Really funny.”

“Don’t worry, you won’t have to kiss me tonight,” she offers as a consolation despite Peter wanting to tell MJ that being able to kiss her is anything but that.

He lies and feigns a confident shrug, “Too bad, I’m a good kisser.”

She gives him a playful shove. “Nice.”

* * *

The rumor spreads like wildfire, an experience Peter’s never felt considering his family is made up of just two. 

Her uncle asks with a teasing smile, “So why each other?”

Peter can go on and on in complete honesty, but he keeps it at, “When I met her, I wanted to impress her. And keep impressing her.”

“So does he impress you?” he asks MJ.

There’s no way the fondness that Peter sees in her eyes when she looks at him could be a lie. No way. “He does. He makes me laugh.”

* * *

As MJ continues to introduce Peter to others, an entire relationship is birthed from the extensive questions the Jones-Williams family pours on them. 

_“How’d you meet?”_

_“Where do you live? Is it a safe area?”_

_“Do you plan to move to a bigger place eventually?”_

_“Kids?”_

But the one statement that hurts the most, one that doesn’t even hurt Peter directly, comes from a distant cousin saying, “I didn’t think MJ would be brave enough to finally settle down with someone.”

Finally, Peter realizes why she keeps her life a secret from her family – their views on love and marriage do not align with hers. And if Peter feels drained from their questions, he can’t imagine what MJ has been feeling her entire life, always being asked about when she’s finally going to settle down.

* * *

They take a social break, sitting on a bench near the restrooms, watching people cha-cha slide embarrassingly and laughing at overheard conversations. 

“Almost speech time,” MJ says, deflecting from the conversation she knows Peter wants to have. 

“Em–"

“It’s okay, Peter. I know what you’re going to say. It’s fine.”

“But it’s not,” he frowns. “I know what they say hurts you.”

“It doesn’t.”

Frustration within him grows and grows, sighing as he says, “Then why are you lying to your family that we’re dating? You never lie, Em.”

She turns to Peter, dead-serious as she replies, “Maybe for once in my life–just for one damn night–I finally had someone that makes me want all of those things.”

Peter blinks. “What?”

“Nothing. It’s not important,” she quickly brushes him off. “I just–I have a speech to make.”

Peter’s left stunned.

* * *

The speech is beautiful.

Sam and Charlie cry.

Peter sheds a few tears.

He didn’t know MJ felt this way about love.

And he definitely didn’t know that he’s someone that makes her want to feel that way.

But once she’s back sitting next to him, she doesn’t bring it up anymore, and neither does he. 

She asks, “Don’t you want your slice of cake?”

“Maybe you were right about making one at home, just us,” he says. MJ bites her lip in a way that tells Peter she’s nervous, that she may have said something that she thinks wounded their friendship. She didn’t, and he wants to tell her, only if she let him. 

MJ gets up and shrugs, saying, “I’ll get a slice to share.”

They eat the cake in silence, her words from before inked in his brain as if it were permanent. He wants to dissect what she said, he wants to ask what it means, he wants to know that maybe everything he’s felt between the two of them, MJ’s felt, too.

The string is now a rope, but the scissors became a chainsaw.

Even still, Peter wants to take that risk more than ever. 

* * *

The approaching relatives have long past, the news dying down quickly like a social media trend. All eyes are now on the bride and groom, finishing their wedding traditions. The slice of cake they share is gone, and Peter’s convinced he’s an idiot for overanalyzing the way she fed him a bite – again, so naturally. 

He wonders if it’s all for show, for the people who continue to look at them and watch. But he notices the way she looks when she thinks he isn’t looking, and Peter’s always looking at MJ.

Peter remains silent, even if his heartbeat is loud and troubled and begging for the truth.

Just as he wants to beg the question, MJ asks, “Do you want to dance?”

Immediately, he stands up, offering her hand and nodding. She grabs it, locking their fingers as they make their way to the dance floor. Slow, lyricless music humming in the background. The night is almost over, only other couples scattered on the dance floor as the little kids are slowly dozing off on their table, and a few guests begin to leave. 

They don’t exchange words, Peter watching the way MJ nervously looks around the room until her eyes meet his. His arms wrap around her waist, resting at the small of her back. 

“Thanks,” she says. “For coming here. And meeting my family. And for dancing.”

“Anything for my girlfriend,” he tries to ease the tension but watches MJ’s face fall. “Uh–um. Sorry. You’re welcome, Em.”

“I know I’m hard to deal with,” she says, “so I… I really appreciate you, Peter.”

“I appreciate you, too.”

“Seriously, though.”

“I am serious,” he frowns. “And you’re not hard to deal with. I would do this all over again if that’s what it takes for you to understand that I’d do anything for you.”

The corner of her lips curls into a smile. He could kiss her right there, in the dimly-lit ballroom – it would be so perfect. But he doesn’t, the two of them just continue to dance until they’re the last two on the dance floor and the last beat is played.

If only he said something. If only he could ask what she meant earlier before she had left to do her speech. If only he took the risk.

* * *

They finally reach the apartment, coming back from the long night, the exhaustion in his legs from dancing and socializing with MJ’s relatives finally catching up to him. 

The night still goes on, the two of them still in their wedding clothes, resting in the living room, complete silence humming. They’re sitting apart, MJ’s head resting on the back of the couch from a headache she blamed on the champagne.

Peter unbuttoned his dress shirt and loosened his lavender tie, mentally preparing to let go of the day, and how MJ let him into her life a little closer. Somehow–even though he didn’t think it would be possible–he feels more connected to her than ever. 

He sneaks glances at her, his brain telling him that it’ll be just another day. That their fleeting, feigned romance is over, even though Peter had the ultimate pleasure of being MJ’s boyfriend for a day.

If time stopped right this moment, Peter would be okay with it.

But, like all wonderful things, tonight comes to an end when she opens her eyes, sitting up straight while saying, “It’s late. We should sleep, Peter.”

He’s running out of time, and he needs to ask now, so before she gets up he says, “Wait. Can I… can I talk to you? Ask you something?”

The look on her face lets Peter know that she had been expecting this. “Okay.”

“What do you mean–um–earlier? When you said today was a chance to experience something you’ve been wanting to experience with someone?”

She looks at him and smiles. “I meant just that, Parker. You know I don’t lie.”

“So you think about us?”

“All the time. Don’t you?”

He blinks. “Uh–yeah–I just, I didn’t know you did. And if we both do, shouldn’t we–I don’t know. Shouldn’t we do something about it?”

“I’m not someone who wants the same things as you, Peter. Even if I want you, I can’t do that to you.”

“Em–”

“I’ve thought about it already. You deserve gushy things because you’re gushy. You love wedding cakes. I saw you cry when you watched my sister and Charlie dance for the first time. I–I can’t promise you that kind of love.”

She runs her hand through his hair, smiling softly – the smile that makes Peter want to parkour off their fire escape. Somehow, he’s speechless. 

“Goodnight, Peter.”

He watches MJ walk all the way to their small hallway, stretching her arms as she enters her room, closing the door. Then and there, he learns he isn’t the only one who’s scared of losing what they have, but another thought intrudes his brain – what they have won’t go away.

Peter loves MJ, and if MJ loves Peter, there isn’t any kind of love he would want over that. 

So he finally finds the courage to pull on the rope that connects their hearts, throwing away the saw that can cut through it, understanding that it was never a problem in the first place. 

As he’s about to knock on the door, MJ swings it open. She stumbles over her words. She’s still wearing her dress. 

Before she can say anything, Peter finally says, “I think we have something special. And–and, you might be scared, and I was, too. I _am_ still. But damn, Em, tonight was amazing and I want more nights like this with yo–”

She kisses him. Like _really_ kisses him, pulling him as close to her body as she can, her hand on the back of his neck, her tongue slipping into his mouth. He cradles her waist like he was born to hold her.

In that moment, Peter learns through open mouth kisses and his hands exploring her curves, this was always meant to be.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you all enjoyed! Let's chat on [Tumblr](http://spideysmjs.tumblr.com/) or [Twitter](https://twitter.com/spideysmjs)!


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